Australia's Best Home Chef?

You be the judge!

I have made it to the dizzy heights of top 5 finalists in the Take 5 Magazine competition to find Australia's best home chef.

Now it may not be Masterchef, but then there's no public meltdowns, war of the words or sucking up to the judges involved. Just straight cooking. And, I'd really like to win!

There are two categories of winner - judges choice and reader's choice. To vote for me, you can ring 1902 554 994 or SMS 199 54994. Voting code is 55.

Voting ends on Tuesday at midnight (or does that make it Wednesday?)

Fingers crossed...

Classic Aussie Trifle

The new kitchen, and especially the beautiful stove, has inspired me to start cooking again in earnest. Looking through my mother's trusty black covered 'Good Housekeeping' that was the only cook book I remember growing up with, I thought I'd branch out into the wonderful world of of Swiss rolls. How hard could it be, I asked myself?

I managed to come up with an edible version of a basic jam-filled Swiss roll from spelt flour (I didn't want to be left out), but I wasn't thrilled. They're such dry cakes and unless you pull them out of the oven at exactly the right moment and then move quickly, they crack and don't roll properly and generally suck. No problem. That's what trifles were invented for - to make dry cake appear appealing.

Is trifle an Aussie invention? I always assumed it was. What other country could bring together jelly, custard, cream, fruit and alcohol in such a horrific fashion??? Brought out every hot summer holiday, it was the bane of my existence as a kid. I hated it. I hated the smell of it, the cheap, mock-cream filled Swiss rolls soaked in far too much sweet sherry, covered in tinned fruit, jelly and sweet, sweet cream. YUCK!!! Thank God (and I sincerely mean that) my mother never made trifle. It was just that every single other mum, aunt and neighbour did, clearly labouring under the false impression that trifle was the height of sophisticated desserts and should be served as often as possible to kids who must politely accept man-sized portions slopped into plastic dishes, or risk being considered spoiled and badly mannered. Sigh...

Taking inspiration from some old recipes, I put a decent trifle together, although I opted for individual glasses, instead of throwing the whole lot together in a large bowl. Although, you could do that if you like it the old-school, hope it stays together while you're serving, look. Tim, my mum and I have enjoyed trifle this time around. I'm pleasantly surprised.

Ingredients

1 packet Aeroplane jelly crystals, raspberry flavour

1 large jam filled Swiss roll

600ml thickened cream

1/4 cup sherry (actually I was out of sherry and used Dubonet)

1/4 cup custard powder

1/4 cup caster sugar

1 1/2 cups milk

1 large can peach slices, drained (825g)

1 punnet strawberries

flaked, toasted almonds to garnish

Make up the jelly as instructed and pop it in the fridge until it starts to set but can still be poured. Make up the custard by placing the custard powder with a little milk and the sugar in a small pan and stir into a paste. Then add the rest of the milk and bring to the boil, slowly, without burning. Take off the heat and cool a bit. When cool, stir in 1/2 cup of the cream. Whip the remaining cream until stiff.

Cut 6 slices of Swiss roll, about 2 cm thick each. Place one slice each in 6 large glasses or individual sweet bowls. (Alternatively, you can make this up in one large bowl). Gently spoon some alcohol onto each slice of cake. Pour the jelly over each slice of cake and place back in the fridge until properly set.

When the jelly is set, arrange the peach slices on top . Pour over the custard, followed by a generous helping of whipped cream. Place sliced strawberries and toasted almonds on top.

Truffle Festival

Just a quick spot of news as I settle into the new kitchen (read: madly clean up because the outlaws are coming to dinner tomorrow night). The Australian Capital Country Truffle Festival is on. I'd love to do a cooking class, but we'll see how we go. I'd love to hear from anyone who has taken part in events or classes.

Out with the old...

It's finally happening - the new kitchen is here!  Well that is, it's sitting on a tarp in the dining room, waiting to be installed. I don't care! It brings me one step closer to having a functioning space to work in. It's all shiny and new and covered in protective plastic and looking like it will make me very happy, once it's in. I can't wait. Step by step, it's taking shape.

The picutre above is of the old (clean) kitchen, ready to be demolished, with the new one sitting in the background. Note the sexy 1970's overhanging shelves. Some thoughtful design there. (!)

Bizarrely enough, I found myself cleaning the bench tops shortly before the demolition guy arrived. I know! Ridiculous but I blame my mother's influence on me for that one. I mean, one wouldn't want the demolition guy thinking one was a grot! (I won't describe the demolition guy, but suffice it to say that I don't think he would have noticed an un-wiped bench).

The rip-out happened yesterday morning. I can't help but think that it must be many a young bloke's dream job. Crow bars, large hammers and other heavy instruments were involved, and there was a lot of loud noise and chucking of stuff about carelessly because it's not like it matters if it gets broken.

At this juncture, I think it's only fair to share pictures of some of the contact shelf lining that will most definitely not be missed. c 1973?

Next, the plumber arrived to do plumbing related stuff. All good, although when he got the blow torch out and fired it up, without so much as a set of protective glasses or gloves in sight, I just had to walk away, close the door behind me and hope for the best.

The sparky was great. He pointed out that it was going to cost $64 to move a perfectly placed and functioning power point from one spot to another. He kindly offered me the choice of not agreeing to this and saving said $64. What a good bloke!

Finally, at around 5.30pm, the plasterer arrived. Not that impressed with the rip-out guy's work, he decided enough was enough and he'd be back on Sunday morning to take care of things. OK...

So I anticipate my weekend will be spent pottering about the place, trying not to get in anyone's way and occasionally making a cuppa for the men who are charged with making me more happy than I've ever been in that kitchen! It's worth it. 

Here's what we're currently left with:

New Vegemite!!!

Apparently we are about to experience a whole new Vegemite! This is the first I've heard of it, but then I have had my head under a rock lately (metaphorically speaking of course). We're supposedly in for a smoother, creamier taste in a different jar that will be available from this Sunday. I will definitely lose sleep over this one...

Photo courtesy of AAP

Roast pork with fennel & figs

Bizarre sounding combination? Perhaps, but it works. And it's totally simple.

Get whatever cut of pork you like. I was after something on the bone but couldn't find one I liked, so I used a boneless rolled roast. Cut some slits in the skin. For crispy pork skin, rub it down with lemon juice first. Don't use the bottled stuff. Actually grab yourself a lemon and juice it. Then rub the lot down with salt, making sure you get some salt into any cuts in the pork skin. 

Place the pork in a roasting pan, throw in some dried figs, quartered fresh fennel and unpeeled garlic cloves. The quantities aren't all that important so long as you make sure you've got enough for everyone. Drizzle the fennel and figs with some olive oil and season with some salt & pepper. You can also drizzle some lemon juice on them. Don't oil up the pork or it won't go crispy. Cook covered, and then uncover and let the pork skin crisp up. You might need to take your veg out so it doesn't burn. Turn the heat up and watch it crackle.

This is really good served with roast veg and gravy, or just pan juices. Don't be put off if you've never used fennel either. It has such a delicate flavour that goes well with the sweetness of the figs and the saltiness of the pork. You probably couldn't transfer the combination to beef or lamb, but it could work with a nice fish, like barramundi. 

Oh, and excuse the slackness over the last couple of weeks. I've joined the ranks of people with a dose of winter flu, so toast has played a pretty major role on the menu. Not really blog-worthy though...

When good pannacotta goes bad

Our great mate Nathan (aka Dr Dootlittle) has long told stories of how easy pannacotta is to make. He wheels the stuff out at every possible opportunity he gets. (I mean, we all love the stuff, but nobody likes a showoff!!!) Convinced that it was easy and that it would taste brilliant and photograph beautifully, I tried. Sadly, I failed. In fact, I failed miserably. 

My pannacotta came out more like a moulded mound of mashed potato. It's like ice cream that isn't icy. Or cream that has somehow managed to solidify during mid-whip. There is no wobble. In fact, if it's possible to make a stodgy pannacotta, I managed it. Perhaps that's an achievement in itself?

So there it sits, in my fridge, untouched by Tim who usually wouldn't be put off by something like a dessert that doesn't wobble like it's meant to. In fact, he won't even photograph the stuff. He did very helpfully suggest that we pop it into the freezer and pass it off as ice cream. He meant well.

And with bruised ego, I leave this post here and will resort to Lindt for dessert this week.